The following is some entries from a journal I wrote for Wilson from the book No Time To Say Goodbye.
Dear Journal, I have been here, at Kuper Island Residential School for at least a week already. It was only about the third day after my arrival when the days began to blur together, and now I no longer am aware of exactly how long I have been here, but I am sure that is has not been more than a week.
You have my deepest apologies for my not writing more often, but paper is not allowed anywhere besides in classrooms here at Kuper. The only reason I am able to be writing at all is because Joey managed to sneak some paper into our room for me without getting caught. I do not want him risking getting in trouble just for me, but I did not have the heart to disappoint him by not using the paper like I probably should have. As it is it feels as if Joey is not even allowed to be my brother anymore, I do not want to be part of the cause.
We are not even allowed to sleep together like we did at home. At first, we had devised a plan where Joey could sneak into my bed after Brother Eubieus had went to bed, and sneak back before he woke us up in the morning. Then, in the middle of last night, Father Maynard came into our room and caught Joey sleeping with me and told us that we were not allowed to share beds at Kuper. Brother Eubieus said that we had to sleep in different beds, at least for a while until Father Maynard trusted us again.
The trouble is, I hardly get to see Joey as it is and now he is not even permitted to sleep with me. It is hard to fall asleep without his calm breathing beside me.
It is only the first night after Father Maynard found us out, so we dare not try it again, especially since he has already checked to see if we had twice and it is still early on in the night. I wish there were not so many rules. I wish I was allowed to see my brothers. I wish we all could just go home.
-WJ
Dear Journal,
I wet the bed last night. Father Maynard found out and punished me by forcing me to take a freezing shower in front of all the other boys. It was very embarrassing, and everyone laughed as if it were the funniest thing that they had ever seen. Maybe it was.
After I got out of the shower I was so cold I was blue, but Brother Eubieus kindly helped me dry off. The shame I feel is terrible. I have not wet the bed in a long time. More then the shame, though, I feel angry. Angry at Agent Macdonald for taking us here in the first place. Angry at Father Maynard for separating Joey and I from Thomas, and now from each other. Angry at Brother Eubieus for not doing more to help us, although I am grateful for the help he has already given us. I am even angry at mom and dad for letting the big black car take us away. I could forgive them, though, if I could only I could go home.
-WJ
Dear Journal,
I am not angry anymore. That evaporated last night when I realized that I have not seen Thomas since we arrived at Kuper. Now, I am mostly just worried. At first I took no notice of the absence of Thomas and when I did I was not too worried, but for the three days that have gone by since I wet the bed, I have looked for Thomas in the mess hall at meals and not once have I seen him. I look for the other people from home, too. I would be relived to see any one of them. Dusty, Monica, Howard, even Nelson.
I feel sick with worry, and would not be surprised if I actually was sick. I have had the chills ever since that freezing shower that Father Maynard made me endure.
I cannot sleep either. I was hoping writing would help to take these things off of my mind a little. It usually does, but I think it has just made things worse. It is as if writing my worries down makes them a reality. I really am tired so maybe tonight will be the night that I finally break out of my rut and fall asleep for a while. Maybe, but probably not.
-WJ
Dear Journal,
I have been here for two weeks now and it is beginning to feel as though my life has been split into two different parts, the first is before I came to Kuper and the second is after. The after part is reality, but the part that comes before is just a happy dream that has ceased to be anything more than a faded memory.
Kuper seems like a dream sometimes too. I can hardly focus in lessons, and the disgusting, grey food sticks in my throat and causes me to gag. I am not even going to try eating anymore, and have dedicated mealtimes to searching the crowd for people from home, and trying to remember every single detail about home.
-WJ
Dear Journal,
It seems as though my memories are they only thing left that the people here, at Kuper, can take away from me, having robbed me of everything else including the comfort of sleep and food. I have not ate since the last time I wrote and I have hardly slept since then either. I have been telling myself that the reason I will not eat is because the food looks and smells disgusting, and mom always used to tell us that if the food did not look or smell right, we should not eat it. Secretly, though, I think that it is not that I do not want to eat -sometimes there is nothing I want more- but that I cannot eat. Every time I try, which is almost never now, my throat feels too closed up with worry and stress to fit any food or drink down it at all and I just can't bring myself to swallow. Maybe I will see Thomas tomorrow and have have better luck eating.
-WJ
Dear Journal,
A number of things have happened since I last had the opportunity to write. First, I completely stopped eating and drinking. Then, I was taken to the doctor so that my condition could be monitored, but was soon moved to a larger hospital. I do not remember much after that, mostly just the smell of chemicals and a couple of the doctors' faces. Everything else is just a hazy dream.
I still feel sick and weak from Malnutrition, but I am at least I am happier now. After I had stayed at the hospital for a while, it is hard to say exactly how long, they decided that, since I was not making any progress, I was to be returned home to recuperate with my mother. I am on the boat home now and I cannot wait until I arrive. I am sad to be leaving Joey and Thomas behind, especially since I did not get to say goodbye, but I am thrilled to be able to go back home. Maybe mom and dad will even find a way to keep me home so that I never have to return to that cursed building again. I hope so.
I am not as worried now and I think I can probably eat something to, especially if it is something mom has made.
The chapter of my life at Kuper is over, at least for a while, and I cannot wait to get back to my home, and my parents.
I promise to write again soon.
Sincerely,
Wilson Jones.
Next is a letter that I wrote for Monica to Father Maynard, who are two other characters from the novel No Time To Say Goodbye.
'Father' Maynard,
Before I start writing the actual message of this letter I would just like to say that I am not a hateful person. I would not be writing like this, but I feel that you need to know just what you have done to me. I am sure that after I have written this I will feel no regret, although, if this letter was to any other person I would. This is what you have done to me, and what I think of you.
You call yourself a father, a man of the church, but in my mind, you are a disgrace to all people who truly believe in God.
The things that you have done to me are etched in my mind forever, there to scar and effect me so deeply that I do not think that I will ever be free of the haunting thoughts, words and images.
What you have taken away from me is something that I can never get back. You cannot save your mind from the horror of what you have done after it has been damaged so terribly.
And what did you give me in return for taking away the carefree attitude of a child that I once possessed? Horrible memories that can never be erased from my mind. Memories that cause me to gag and feel lightheaded and sick to my stomach whenever I smell onions because they remind me of your rancid breath. Memories that eat away at my soul and my sanity until I am sure that only a thread is left.
There are even times when I cannot bear to look or speak to perfectly civilized men because of a little detail about them that reminds me slightly of you and all my horrific experiences before you left Kuper.
Worse still, I believe, than what you have done to me and many other girls, is that you caused us all this much pain and yet, somehow, you can live with yourself without even showing any guilt or regret. Sometimes, I even wish that you could not live with yourself.
I did learn one thing from you though, and that is just how truly awful and twisted people can be. When I first arrived a Kuper, I had no idea what it meant to be truly evil, but you, along with the wonderful Sister Mary-Louise, quickly taught me what it meant to be even worse than evil.
I really hope that I will be able to trust again someday after being exposed to this evil. I know I cannot now, though, but there is always hope for the future.
That is what you have done. It has caused me to sincerely wish to never have to see you again for as long as I live.
Dear Journal,
I have been here, at Kuper Island Residential School for at least a week already. It was only about the third day after my arrival when the days began to blur together, and now I no longer am aware of exactly how long I have been here, but I am sure that is has not been more than a week.
You have my deepest apologies for my not writing more often, but paper is not allowed anywhere besides in classrooms here at Kuper. The only reason I am able to be writing at all is because Joey managed to sneak some paper into our room for me without getting caught. I do not want him risking getting in trouble just for me, but I did not have the heart to disappoint him by not using the paper like I probably should have. As it is it feels as if Joey is not even allowed to be my brother anymore, I do not want to be part of the cause.
We are not even allowed to sleep together like we did at home. At first, we had devised a plan where Joey could sneak into my bed after Brother Eubieus had went to bed, and sneak back before he woke us up in the morning. Then, in the middle of last night, Father Maynard came into our room and caught Joey sleeping with me and told us that we were not allowed to share beds at Kuper. Brother Eubieus said that we had to sleep in different beds, at least for a while until Father Maynard trusted us again.
The trouble is, I hardly get to see Joey as it is and now he is not even permitted to sleep with me. It is hard to fall asleep without his calm breathing beside me.
It is only the first night after Father Maynard found us out, so we dare not try it again, especially since he has already checked to see if we had twice and it is still early on in the night. I wish there were not so many rules. I wish I was allowed to see my brothers. I wish we all could just go home.
-WJ
Dear Journal,
I wet the bed last night. Father Maynard found out and punished me by forcing me to take a freezing shower in front of all the other boys. It was very embarrassing, and everyone laughed as if it were the funniest thing that they had ever seen. Maybe it was.
After I got out of the shower I was so cold I was blue, but Brother Eubieus kindly helped me dry off. The shame I feel is terrible. I have not wet the bed in a long time. More then the shame, though, I feel angry. Angry at Agent Macdonald for taking us here in the first place. Angry at Father Maynard for separating Joey and I from Thomas, and now from each other. Angry at Brother Eubieus for not doing more to help us, although I am grateful for the help he has already given us. I am even angry at mom and dad for letting the big black car take us away. I could forgive them, though, if I could only I could go home.
-WJ
Dear Journal,
I am not angry anymore. That evaporated last night when I realized that I have not seen Thomas since we arrived at Kuper. Now, I am mostly just worried. At first I took no notice of the absence of Thomas and when I did I was not too worried, but for the three days that have gone by since I wet the bed, I have looked for Thomas in the mess hall at meals and not once have I seen him. I look for the other people from home, too. I would be relived to see any one of them. Dusty, Monica, Howard, even Nelson.
I feel sick with worry, and would not be surprised if I actually was sick. I have had the chills ever since that freezing shower that Father Maynard made me endure.
I cannot sleep either. I was hoping writing would help to take these things off of my mind a little. It usually does, but I think it has just made things worse. It is as if writing my worries down makes them a reality. I really am tired so maybe tonight will be the night that I finally break out of my rut and fall asleep for a while. Maybe, but probably not.
-WJ
Dear Journal,
I have been here for two weeks now and it is beginning to feel as though my life has been split into two different parts, the first is before I came to Kuper and the second is after. The after part is reality, but the part that comes before is just a happy dream that has ceased to be anything more than a faded memory.
Kuper seems like a dream sometimes too. I can hardly focus in lessons, and the disgusting, grey food sticks in my throat and causes me to gag. I am not even going to try eating anymore, and have dedicated mealtimes to searching the crowd for people from home, and trying to remember every single detail about home.
-WJ
Dear Journal,
It seems as though my memories are they only thing left that the people here, at Kuper, can take away from me, having robbed me of everything else including the comfort of sleep and food. I have not ate since the last time I wrote and I have hardly slept since then either. I have been telling myself that the reason I will not eat is because the food looks and smells disgusting, and mom always used to tell us that if the food did not look or smell right, we should not eat it. Secretly, though, I think that it is not that I do not want to eat -sometimes there is nothing I want more- but that I cannot eat. Every time I try, which is almost never now, my throat feels too closed up with worry and stress to fit any food or drink down it at all and I just can't bring myself to swallow. Maybe I will see Thomas tomorrow and have have better luck eating.
-WJ
Dear Journal,
A number of things have happened since I last had the opportunity to write. First, I completely stopped eating and drinking. Then, I was taken to the doctor so that my condition could be monitored, but was soon moved to a larger hospital. I do not remember much after that, mostly just the smell of chemicals and a couple of the doctors' faces. Everything else is just a hazy dream.
I still feel sick and weak from Malnutrition, but I am at least I am happier now. After I had stayed at the hospital for a while, it is hard to say exactly how long, they decided that, since I was not making any progress, I was to be returned home to recuperate with my mother. I am on the boat home now and I cannot wait until I arrive. I am sad to be leaving Joey and Thomas behind, especially since I did not get to say goodbye, but I am thrilled to be able to go back home. Maybe mom and dad will even find a way to keep me home so that I never have to return to that cursed building again. I hope so.
I am not as worried now and I think I can probably eat something to, especially if it is something mom has made.
The chapter of my life at Kuper is over, at least for a while, and I cannot wait to get back to my home, and my parents.
I promise to write again soon.
Sincerely,
Wilson Jones.
Next is a letter that I wrote for Monica to Father Maynard, who are two other characters from the novel No Time To Say Goodbye.
'Father' Maynard,
Before I start writing the actual message of this letter I would just like to say that I am not a hateful person. I would not be writing like this, but I feel that you need to know just what you have done to me. I am sure that after I have written this I will feel no regret, although, if this letter was to any other person I would. This is what you have done to me, and what I think of you.
You call yourself a father, a man of the church, but in my mind, you are a disgrace to all people who truly believe in God.
The things that you have done to me are etched in my mind forever, there to scar and effect me so deeply that I do not think that I will ever be free of the haunting thoughts, words and images.
What you have taken away from me is something that I can never get back. You cannot save your mind from the horror of what you have done after it has been damaged so terribly.
And what did you give me in return for taking away the carefree attitude of a child that I once possessed? Horrible memories that can never be erased from my mind. Memories that cause me to gag and feel lightheaded and sick to my stomach whenever I smell onions because they remind me of your rancid breath. Memories that eat away at my soul and my sanity until I am sure that only a thread is left.
There are even times when I cannot bear to look or speak to perfectly civilized men because of a little detail about them that reminds me slightly of you and all my horrific experiences before you left Kuper.
Worse still, I believe, than what you have done to me and many other girls, is that you caused us all this much pain and yet, somehow, you can live with yourself without even showing any guilt or regret. Sometimes, I even wish that you could not live with yourself.
I did learn one thing from you though, and that is just how truly awful and twisted people can be. When I first arrived a Kuper, I had no idea what it meant to be truly evil, but you, along with the wonderful Sister Mary-Louise, quickly taught me what it meant to be even worse than evil.
I really hope that I will be able to trust again someday after being exposed to this evil. I know I cannot now, though, but there is always hope for the future.
That is what you have done. It has caused me to sincerely wish to never have to see you again for as long as I live.
-Monica,
Your "Little Princess" no longer.